


Reese's Paradox

by JauntyHako



Series: Post Season 5 AU [10]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Abusing Technobabble for Fun and Profit, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, This Could Be An Episode If the Writers Weren't Cowards, Todd Will Keep Going Through Some Shit, Todd's Been Through Some Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27268093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JauntyHako/pseuds/JauntyHako
Summary: After an accident in the Ancient labs Todd finds himself alone on Atlantis. Spectres of his imprisonment with the Genii soon become the least of his worries.
Relationships: John Sheppard/Todd the Wraith
Series: Post Season 5 AU [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/501760
Comments: 11
Kudos: 48





	Reese's Paradox

**Author's Note:**

> The reason for the fic is that I was asking myself: "What would it take for John Sheppard to invite his alien boyfriend to sleep over?" And the answer is apparently: dangerous situations threatening the life and sanity of said alien boyfriend.

Todd liked his work collaborations with Radek. The man was humble, always willing to defer to someone with more expertise than him, but brilliant in his own right. They had quickly found a rhythm that created between them a serene bubble of interaction and mutual scientific ambition.  
Rodney was the prick that popped that bubble.  
“No, no, no, no. Your equations are all wrong, you forgot to account for the altered power frequencies.”  
“I did account for them, right here. Stop interrupting me.”  
“I'm only interrupting because-”  
Todd sighed, and thus briefly gained the attention of both Rodney and Radek.  
“Have you finished your calculations?”  
“Yes.”  
“No.”  
The two humans glared at each other, but before Rodney could resume their argument, Radek slipped out underneath him and inserted the updated code into the device.  
Todd bent down to realign the crystals to accommodate for their changes. Above him the argument flared up again, building up from doubting each other's conclusions to questioning their entire scientific careers. Todd wondered, not for the first time, how humans could claim to be a social species when they did nothing but argue. He set the panel cover back into place and checked the device in the next room for any inconsistencies in the data stream.  
Every day Atlantis unveiled a new marvel of science. It beckoned him to uncover its secrets, luring him in with promises of great insight hidden in machines waiting to be used once again. Building this alliance between him and the humans over years of mistrust, mutual betrayal, and lethal danger, had been worth it just to get his hands on the puzzles even the Lanteans had been unable to solve, preserved over the millennia for him to try his hand. They had made forays into sciences the wraith had not pursued in centuries, unraveling the mysteries of the universe driven by nothing but curiosity.  
This device they'd discovered hours ago, hidden in a lab so far unexplored, its purpose unknown, its construction advanced. A temptation the combined minds of Rodney, Radek, and Todd could not resist.  
He checked the power coupling, adjusted its output to allow for a slow booting, and started the device.  
It hummed to life, sputtered, and bit him.  
Todd hissed, yanked his hand back as sharp pain surged through an electrical shock. An ancient beast, waking up tetchy. 

The readings returned to normal after the brief spike of energy, and he went back to the main room to see what kinds of data this humming creature spat out.  
Rodney and Radek had gone.  
Todd looked around but expected to hear their argument before he spotted them. In all likelihood they had gone to have dinner, much overdue as Todd checked the time and saw that they had spent almost the entire day on this project.  
John had had an early day and likely tried to reach him. Rather than radio him, Todd strode out of the lab to the most likely place he'd be at this time of day, head full of theories as to the purpose of the Lantean's device.

Only his footsteps echoed in the hallways, but that was to be expected since the lab lay in one of the many peripheral areas of the city. The human expedition hadn't uncovered even a tenth of what the city offered. Most would spend their entire short lifespans coaxing a mere fraction of truth out of its ancient bones.  
Being alone in the far reaches of the city hadn't worried him. Entering the central island still a solitary presence in its halls perplexed him. The sun had painted its rays a warm orange, most people on base should be en route to the mess hall.  
He met no one, and by the time he reached his destination, vague puzzlement had made way for concern.  
The mess hall yawned with the absence of its people. No food on the tables, no cooks handing out meals, no pairs and groups of humans partaking in their most social ritual. The whole place was deserted, silent except for the ocean outside, not a single human voice audible. He activated his radio.  
“Sheppard, come in. John, do you hear me?”  
Only static answered him. He tried again, called first Sheppard, then Rodney, Teyla, Woolsey, Lorne. No one answered. He reached out for his hive, both electronically and telepathically. It should be in reach, drifting in high orbit around the planet. If he concentrated, his kin's thoughts should have met him as a steady murmuration, not individually distinguishable but undeniably there.  
He was completely alone.

John had a lot of free time these days.  
The original strain of the Eschalian plague still swept through the galaxy, reducing outbound missions to uninhabited planets and the odd delivery for plague victims who agreed to be injected with the altered strain. There was a lot of work to be done, no doubt, but mostly by Atlantis' medical personnel. Recon teams like John's, especially with him already having the plague, risked spreading rather than mitigating it.  
He'd just decided to look for Todd and see if he could persuade him to not judge all earth movies by the Star Trek reboots, when he happened upon Rodney and Radek, sandwiches in hand, arguing.  
“How's the research going?” John asked, trying for casually interested, while he peered over the heads as if a seven foot green alien might have concealed himself in the small shrub behind them.  
Radek and Rodney shared a glance. Radek shook his head.  
“He doesn't want to know,” he said.  
John, who really didn't, took offense to that.  
“Hey, I can show interest. But, uh, you didn't happen to see Todd on your way?”  
“Why do you want to see him?” Rodney asked with his usual amount of social awareness.  
“Chce se s ním milovat,” Radek said, snickering to himself.  
John squinted, assuming Radek had just said something he wouldn't like, but couldn't prove it. The Non-American, and some of the American, people did that a lot and he didn't like it anymore than the first time.  
“Have you seen him or not?”  
“Huh, you know, now that you mention it ... He was in the lab, but he left while we were still in the middle of, uh, a discussion. Maybe try the radio?”  
John waved him off.  
“It's not that important,” he said, mostly because Radek was still smiling way too innocently. “He'll turn up sooner or later.”  
Later John would curse out his past self for not just getting over his embarrassment and trying the radio. It would have given them valuable time to save Todd's life.  
As it was he turned towards the gateroom, to talk Woolsey into letting him have just a teeny tiny offworld mission.

Worry had made way for uneasiness. It crept in at the edges, bony fingers plucking at his mind. His thoughts ran in circles to avoid the cold touch of dread.  
Todd had to find someone, anyone except for him. He rushed up the stairs, foregoing the elevators for his need to keep moving, do something, because otherwise he would lose his mind. Someone had to be there, be it foe or jailer. The radio sputtered out static on every channel.  
By the time he drove his mind into terror's waiting caress to pilfer a handful of rational ideas, sunset had made way for dusk. The nightshift should be manning their stations, faces ashen and tired in Atlantis' too bright artificial light. He pushed past the tables and chairs to the lifesigns detector.  
His hand went through the console.  
He jerked back, his feet hitting the ground too heavily. The contrast too sharp between his obvious presence in this space and the lack of sensation of his hand blending with the machinery.  
Steeling himself Todd touched the surface again slowly and carefully. The tiniest amount of resistance emboldened him to push on and his hand went through solid matter once again.

This was impossible. It had to be. He tried other spots, phased through walls, computers, furniture.  
His body had been stolen from him. Separated from the real world unable to influence it in any way, he had become a ghost.  
Todd turned to pacing, panic grasping at him from the liminal edges of his perception. It tinted the shadows black, the clang of metal ringing out from his most hated memories.  
He had to keep his head straight. If John were here, he'd tell him to pull himself together and think his way out.  
Without a way to communicate and no way to interact with the machines, he had no way of getting out or even figuring out how he got here. Wherever or whatever here was. His boots hit the ground in the stuttering staccato rhythm of alone, alone, alone, alone. In the echo of his terror Kolya's laughter welcomed him back to his cell.  
“Think,” Todd snapped, this all too human habit of talking to oneself a crutch now that the space were his brethren spoke was silent.  
“Think,” he said again, this time just to break the silence.  
When he had touched the console for the second time he'd felt a resistance that hadn't occurred again. What had been different then?  
He pushed the button again, his hand went through. No, he had been more careful, gone slower. This time he mimicked the act of pressing down more than he executed it, held the motion for as long as his patience allowed.  
The tips of his fingers touched the cool plastic of the button. Todd rejoiced, relief making him giddy, as he called up the lifesigns grid.  
What shortlived relief there had been, was gone. Hundreds of lifesigns blinked on the map, a dozen in the gateroom itself. Everywhere there should be lifesigns, at the guard stations, at the consoles, two in Woolsey's office. But none in front of the device. Atlantis' people hadn't disappeared. He had.  
He still stared at the glowing dots when he heard a noise like silk nestling on a bed of dry leaves. A shadow passed behind him. Todd turned around. Nothing. But he felt a presence, something large and heavy moving very quietly. Something had surrounded him.

“Please, come on. Just one mission. We need new volunteers for the Eschalian exchange program anyway-”  
“The medical teams have it well in hand,” Woolsey said. John was about to expand on the virtues of having his team take over their jobs, when they heard a yelp from the consoles. They rushed outside, fearing or in John's case secretly hoping for a disaster. Chuck had rolled back in his chair, staring at the keyboard to one of Atlantis' systems. The lifesigns grid had been called up.  
“Do we have intruders?” John asked, a little too excited.  
“I didn't do this,” Chuck said. “I was updating the logbook when the key pressed itself.”  
His face lit up.  
“ _Cool_.”  
Woolsey regarded John with a disapproving glance.  
“A malfunction perhaps?”  
Chuck went back to the desk, eyeing the self-pressing key while he pulled up the diagnostics menu.  
“We'll know in a few minutes, sir.”  
Woolsey turned to John.  
“I understand you're bored. If you want something to do, may I suggest asking Dr McKay? His scientists have a list of tasks that require the Ancient gene. You could make yourself useful.”  
Lightswitch duty for a bunch of overexcitable scientists wasn't John's idea of fun, but he'd take it over re-reading War and Peace.  
“If something comes up ...”  
“You'll be the first to know,” Woolsey promised.

Todd strode through closed doors, not quite running, missing the sweep of his coat. He'd elected to wear Atlantis' grey uniform jacket today, as he did most days when he expected to spend the day in dusty labs and near McKay with his mayo sandwiches and melting chocolate bars. Now he regretted it.  
His own clothes would have made him feel less out of place, more grounded in this strange reality he'd fallen into. He was also more used to moving in it than Atlantis' garb. Each rustle threatened to alert whatever being had caught his scent.  
Todd left the central spire long behind before he allowed himself to relax. 

On the plus side, he was no longer alone. On the downside, whatever it was he shared a space with may have wanted to eat him.  
He chuckled weakly to himself, the voice of deadpan assessment sounding like John's. Three hours since and a potential eternity until he saw him. Would he forget the sound of John's voice like he had the ones of his first brothers, who'd died at Lantean hands ten thousand years ago? He didn't remember when their faces had become mere shadows, forever out of focus. He didn't know how long he'd have with John's memory to keep him company.  
The creeping terror of being alone clawed at him, promising a swift end to despair and misery if he only gave in. He'd done it once before and it had taken the force of John's conviction to pull him out of it. He'd not come back a second time.  
Without taking input from his brain his feet led him to Atlantis' personal quarters, down to John's room and through a door that didn't react to his presence. He phased through it, confronted with the familiar sights and smells of John's place. Plain soap and an artificial fragrance John kept in tiny glass flasks, earth artifacts, paper books, the odd souvenir from offworld missions. A stack of unread reports lay on the bedstand, and it was next to it Todd sank down, weary, exhausted, and utterly hopeless.  
He didn't know what to do, who to call on, where to go next. He was alone, more so than he'd been in the Genii cell, not even his captors for company. His hive drifted somewhere above him, its darts and hivemind so far away he might as well have tried to walk there.  
He would give anything for McKay's grating whine coming in through the radio. He'd claim Todd had broken something and go on a diatribe about having to clean up other people's messes, and Todd would gripe back about this not being his fault.  
The radio gave him static as he, without real hope, tried again to reach someone.  
He wasn't safe, it would be better not to stay in one place too long, so he couldn't interact with the machines as slow as the process was. Being in John's quarters made his memory clearer. John would tell him to take inventory, make a plan.  
He had a radio on him that he could use, but no one to reach on any of the frequencies he'd tried. He had a knife, hidden in his boot, unknown to even the expedition, the only concession to his own lingering paranoia he still made. Using the knife to interact with the world around him would likely be as slow as using his hands would be. Still, it opened up possibilities.  
Todd pulled himself up, to the nightstand with its stack of reports. There was a pen nearby but trying to pick it up and move it might take him an hour or longer. He used the knife instead, carefully and slowly directing it onto the paper until he felt its resistance. Slowly, letter by letter, he carved a message into the paper. 

John never quite knew what to make of Kenny.  
He seemed to have warmed up to them somewhat since they rescued him from that Genii deathcamp a few weeks ago, but that still left them only on temperate bordering on cool terms. He informed John curtly that he had not seen Todd since his departure from the hive three days ago, and had last spoken to him over the radio last night.  
If he had left Atlantis he had not done so via his ship. John didn't really believe Todd had gone. He'd shaken the habit of doing so without telling anyone, but he couldn't reach him over the radio either. Rodney and Radek hadn't seen him since earlier that evening and it was now approaching almost midnight. John checked his usual haunts, then jogged back to the gateroom. Usually Todd would have sought him out, as they were due for another feeding. He was beginning to grow restless again, figured he had maybe another day or two before he'd feel the effects in full. Which meant Todd had to be getting hungry right about now. Even if he'd left, he wouldn't have done so before feeding. 

He had Chuck check the lifesigns. They could distinguish species if not individuals, but they currently had only two wraith on Atlantis. One of them showed up on the grid, in Jeannie's quarters. Alice reported in, said he'd not seen Todd either.  
Todd's signal was gone.  
Woolsey called Todd over the radio, then the Atlantis intercom system. There was no response. Rodney had come by, called like a siren to a potential mystery.  
“Could his disappearance have something to do with the device you've been working on, Doctor?” Woolsey asked, already looking for the search and rescue protocol in his binders full of similar protocols.  
McKay thought about it.  
“No,” he said, then hesitated. “Maybe? It shouldn't.”  
“Well, it did. You said you saw him last working on that thing. What does it do?”  
The lifesigns grid pinged. They all turned around, but there was still only one wraith signal.  
“What was that?”  
“I don't know, sir,” Chuck said, checking the log of lifesigns. “We got another wraith signal for 0.4 seconds, somewhere in the vicinity of your quarters, Colonel. But it disappeared before we could get a lock on it.”  
Point four seconds was better than nothing. John took the transporter down to the quarters, keeping in contact with the gateroom to monitor other potential signals.  
The room was empty. He checked on the balcony, in the bathroom, even under the bed to make sure, but Todd remained absent. He'd been here, though. Judging from the big fucking slashes right through his official paperwork.  
"This had better not be your idea of a scavenger hunt," John muttered to himself, although the idea of chasing Todd around the city for a game had its appeal. He called Rodney over the radio.  
"You read wraith, right?"  
Rodney made a vague noise of assent. John looked down at the slightly creepy carved message.  
"What does this mean: Two lines that look like straight lightning bolts, one line with a dot in the middle next to a another line slightly offset, two dots, two small lines and one big line all next to each other ..."  
McKay didn't even grace that with an answer.  
"I'll just come over with the message," John mumbled, a little bit embarrassed but beginning to be a lot worried.

Todd didn't know how long he'd been sitting by John's bed, feeling the terrifying solitude bearing down on his shoulders.  
Night had fallen over Atlantis, if John hadn't noted his disappearance, he would likely be in bed right now. He'd seen or heard nothing that would indicate anyone may have entered this room. His connection to the real world was well and truly gone.  
His connection to this other plane of existence remained strong however. There was that subtle sound again, of paper sliced by a sharp blade.  
Todd forgetting where he was, braced himself against John's bed to get up. A shadow burst through the wall as he fell backwards. Todd rolled to the side, blinded momentarily by the solid matter around him, then jumped up and forward, knife drawn, tackling his foe.  
It had mass and yet not. Todd could grab it, but his fingers sunk into it to their first knuckle before they hit something solid. It twisted in his hold, no recognisable form, but undeniably aware and spitting furious. Todd drove his knife into the middle of its body and twisted it. The creature shrieked, limbs contracting then forced apart by some invisible force.  
A shockwave went through the air, all of reality _flickering_ , Todd torn from his body and then violently thrown back in.  
The shadow creature bounded away, its injured side trailing black residue. It clung to Todd's hand and knife. He shook his head to drive the disorientation away, but couldn't rest for long. More of the shadows amassed outside, at least two he guessed, likely more. Injuring one of their kin seemed to have attracted more. He couldn't stay here. Todd picked the safest looking direction, and walked at a brisk pace into the room adjacent to John's, making his way towards the outskirts of the city. 

Rodney had hooked up several diagnostic devices to the machine, standing in front of its main interface, currently in the process of taking readings, leaving Radek to interpret the message Todd had scratched into John's reports.  
“Lab 34. Find me. Todd. Lab 34 is where we are right now. It seems he has drawn the same conclusions as we have. This also confirms that Todd is not in the device itself.”  
“That's ... good?” John said, peering at the electronic light show of multiple computers attempting to find the answers Rodney demanded of them. It could have been his imagination, but they blinked rapidly, as if nervous. He wouldn't be surprised if the computers were just as aware of Rodney's infamous temper as his human colleagues.  
“We hope so. The device seems to have been constructed for the purpose of studying stealth technology via phase shifting. According to the Ancient logs several researchers went missing and the project was cancelled. We don't know what happened to them.”  
“They're dead.”  
Rodney looked up from his tablet, his telltale expression of imminent doom written on his face. John hated that expression, he really did.  
“I don't like those news, Rodney,” he warned.  
“Look, I didn't build this thing, okay? This thing is- woah. Do you feel that?” Rodney shuddered, looking around and rubbing warmth into his arms. “I feel like I'm standing in a cold spot. Also something keeps messing with the computers.”  
“Rodney.”  
“Fine. This devide is meant to project a person or object into a different phase, make them 'vibrate' at another frequency so to speak. They couldn't be detected by conventional means and, if they're moving quickly enough, pass through solid matter. The problem was the Ancients couldn't figure out how to reverse the process and they never got their volunteers back.”  
“So they, what, starved to death? That gives us at least a month,” John said. “Todd has fed last week, we can figure it out in that time, right?”  
“I'm afraid it's worse than that.”  
John cursed inwardly. It was always worse.  
“The longer Todd spend phase shifted, the more his body will adapt to its new surroundings. Radek and I are trying to figure out the frequency to which Todd's been shifted, but in a few hours his signal will be almost indistinguishable from the rest of this phase reality. We won't be able to get him out then. There's not even going to be anything left to bring back.”

It took Todd almost an hour to call up the necessary information from the lab. Whatever was happening, it had to have something to do with it. It was the only explanation. The work frustrated him enough to lose his temper. More than once Todd snarled and swatted at the machinery, his aggressions paltry gestures proving more than anything how helpless he really was.  
But it helped him focus and eventually he got enough datapoints together to figure out what had happened. He'd been phaseshifted, out of order with the real world. If he could find the right frequency, and work long enough undetected by the shadows, he might be able to calibrate Atlantis' communications array to pick up on his signals. The shadows had lost track of him or they otherwise kept away from the lab. Unfortunately, to make the modifications, he had to get into the gateroom again. Then again, if he was right about his hypothesis, he had to confront the shadows anyway. He memorised the base-frequency he needed to modify, promising himself that he would keep a pen on his person from now on and, adjusting the grip on his knife, he went back out into the hallway. One of the shadows lurked just at the end of it, by the dark windows.  
Todd shifted his stance. The creature had noticed him, it swayed in wind he didn't feel, the sharp noise of its movement carrying over to him. This would end very badly or very well.  
Todd lunged at the shadow, bracing against its first sweep and driving his knife into its body. It shuddered, the world flickered, Todd dodged its counterattack. He turned around so he was at its back, stabbed it again, this time right into its core. The creature squealed, an ear-shattering clamour that had Todd grit his teeth to endure, and collapsed, dissipating like smoke.  
The effect was immediate. The entire world shook like a ship on atmospheric entry, Todd kept his balance, resisting the urge to try and brace himself against a wall. Something seemed to squeeze him, pull his skin tighter around his body. The world returned to normal. The sensation remained. He hoped that was a good sign. Because the black shadow his left hand had become certainly wasn't.  
He peered at it cautiously. His hand felt cold and dead, a lump of meat attached to his arm, looking like the stuff the shadows were made of. When he tried to move it he had to exert a similar focus as with the machines. A result of his fight with the creature or his stay here, he couldn't say. If he encountered another one of it, he'd see. If it wasn't too late by then.

John hated being in situations like these. There was nothing he could shoot, threaten, bluff, or trick to make this problem go away. While Rodney and Radek worked their asses off to get Todd back, all he could do was pace back and forth, trying not to be in the way and resisting the urge to ask if they had made any progress since five minutes ago.  
Woolsey, similarly science illiterate, threw him a worried glance. They shared alarmed glances when Rodney exclaimed: “We've got something!”  
He did something on his computer and the lifesigns of Atlantis vanished, replaced with six others. Two of them were close together. As they watched one of them flickered, then went out.  
“Let's hope that was not Todd,” Woolsey said, trying for a smile but forehead too furrowed to make it work.  
The remaining lifesign started moving towards the gateroom.  
“Just like I thought. This is bad.” Rodney went to another computer to check his theory, then looked to Radek who confirmed it.  
“What's bad?” John moved in, trying to get an understanding of what Rodney was doing but the symbols on screen might as well have been wraith.  
“We know now why the Ancient volunteers didn't return. The device we found didn't generate its own phaseshift, which is why we couldn't replicate it. There's just the base frequency, but the Ancients obviously modified it to let an actual person in. Which is interesting actually, because-”  
“Rodney.”  
“Right. The device used to generate a phaseshift, but the Ancients removed that control crystal after their experiment failed.”  
“What caused Todd to be affected by the machine then?” Woolsey asked. John pointed at him to indicate that this was a question he'd totally been about to ask, too, and would like an answer to.  
“They are.” Rodney pointed at the lifesigns. “I already said, the body adapts to the new phase reality. Once the process is complete, it starts emitting its own phase field. These Ancients, or whatever they are now, are keeping the phase reality up.”  
John's face lit up. That sounded suspiciously like a situation that could be solved by shooting something.  
Rodney saw his expression and shook his head.  
“No, John. If they die with Todd still out of phase, the results would be disastrous. It would be like tearing down a house with him still in it.”  
Rodney hadn't quite finished that sentence when the lifesign they hoped was Todd touched another lifesign. A few seconds later it vanished, too.  
“Obviously Todd didn't get the memo. We have to get a message to him.”  
“We're working on that."  
Hopefully fast enough to keep up with Todd on a killing spree.

Todd didn't expect his work to bear fruition. The shadow mass of his hand had expanded to his shoulder, cold as space and lifeless as a husk. Not only did he have to spend several seconds to press a single key, now he had to do it with only one hand. There was no chance he'd complete his work before the phase transformation was complete.  
But the alternative was to listen to the utter silence around him and face the fact that he would never see another soul again. Never touch a living thing to know it was close. If he was right, he would turn into one of the same shadows that were attacking him, forever trapped in an empty world.  
Todd cursed, but the sound of his own voice only made the silence louder as the lack of a response echoed through the room.  
He hated being alone. He hated it, hated it, hated it. His work couldn't distract him anymore. He couldn't return, through all his efforts he was only deluding himself. He was back in his cell, or had never left it in the first place, waiting for the end the Genii wouldn't grant him. He tried to recall the sound of John's voice, but the silent klaxons of his panic drowned out everything else.  
And then it was gone, replaced with a static crackle and McKay's voice.  
“McKay to Todd, come in.”  
The relief was strong enough to sweep him off his feet. His knees buckled, he didn't catch his fall as he hurried to activate his radio.  
“I am here,” he said, hunched over on the floor, both hands cradling the radio.  
He blinked once, twice, when he heard McKay's relieved sigh.  
“Oh, thank God. I mean, I knew you were still alive. Totally sure. Anyway, listen, I don't know if you know, but-”  
“I have been trapped in an experimental phase shift, likely upheld by the shadows that have been attacking me. I was attempting to modulate the communications device to contact the Daedalus. Its beaming technology might be altered to lock onto my pattern and beam me out of this phase reality.”  
“That ... uh, yeah. That could work. I mean obviously. That was our plan, too.”  
Todd was too tired and too glad to call McKay out on his bullshit. His earlier panic response felt like an overreaction now. He'd never truly been alone. Atlantis had been looking for him, he should never have given in to the irrational fear of remaining here forever.  
But as McKay took his time coming up with a plan of attack, his rational side took a step back as the silence became crushing.  
“McKay?” he asked, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.  
“What? Yes, yes, I'm still here. Give us an hour, we'll contact you again.”  
No. He couldn't bear another hour. Already Todd was sure he'd hallucinated their conversation in every pause between sentences. A last ditch attempt of his unconscious mind to convince him he would not die alone and forgotten.  
As if John had read his thoughts, or perhaps had heard the fear he'd tried not to let show, he took over.  
“Let's stay in radio contact. Oh by the way, Rodney tells me it's a bad idea to kill these other lifesigns. Something about burying you alive in phase rubble.”  
“That's not remotely-”  
Todd chuckled weakly at McKay's voice in the background and John cheerfully ignoring him. He relayed messages between them and otherwise kept him talking, assuring him over and over that they were on it, and would get him out of there sooner or later.  
Todd hoped for sooner, as he heard the shadows move in again, almost inaudible over John's voice and radio's static. They were gearing up for an attack, and if he was supposed to or not, Todd couldn't kill four of them by himself. 

“Tell him to stay in one place, or we won't be able to lock onto him,” Rodney called out from under the console he'd been working on. John obediently relayed the message, then segued into getting a promise out of Todd to watch football with him. Apparently Teyla had advised him to dodge any such offers, and John was not above using a potentially deadly situation as a conversational trap.  
“I'll explain the rules, it'll be great-”  
“John. They have found me. I will not be able to remain.”  
“Shit. McKay, hurry up.”  
“I'm already working as fast as I can!”  
“We don't have a lot of time!”  
“Believe me, I know that better than you! Todd's already almost too far gone. We don't get a second chance, if he moves he's dead.”  
The crunch of something heavy hitting the radio came through, John flinched.  
“Todd? You still there?”  
The sounds of a scuffle were all he heard for a while, but his lifesign remained where it was.  
“Todd?”  
“I am here, John- Argh!”  
Phantom pain shot through John as he listened to Todd's pained grunts. A member of his team was fighting for his life and John stood like a parcel ordered and not picked up, forced to witness without being able to act. Rodney shouted above the din of fighting crackling through the radio.  
“Ready!”  
Todd's lifesign flickered, then moved.  
Hermiod activated the transport, bright light centered on the spot just in front of John. It hummed, then dimmed. Then went away. Todd was not there.  
“Goddammit!”  
John looked to Rodney, pleading, desperate. Rodney shook his head.  
“We've lost him.”

Todd fought off the shadow, drove his knife into its flank, then rolled out from underneath as it collapsed dying. John's voice was gone, and he was still in the phase reality. McKay's plan had failed as the creature tackled and threw him across the room. The three remaining shadows circled him, too many to fight at once armed with only a knife.  
Todd dove to the side, no longer scrambling for a solution. He'd prefer to go down fighting to an eternity in solitude. If he lost, they'd kill him if he won the collapsing phase reality would kill him in less than a second. And the shadow mass creeping along his body had reached his chest. Within a day he'd be completely changed and unable to survive in the real world.  
He snarled, steeling himself for one last fight, then leapt at the center most shadow. It came up against him from midair, shadowy limbs extended.  
It was thrown to the side by a hail of gunfire, dispelling its form in a cloud of smoke. Through the rippling phase reality John appeared like a spirit of salvation. A ghost come to guide him into the afterlife.  
“Hey, buddy,” he said, real as they came. “I have an idea.”  
There was no time to show his relief. John took aim at one of the remaining shadows, keeping it off Todd's back as he engaged the other one. He ducked underneath its attack, rammed his knife deep into its belly, losing his footing as reality shook. The rattling of the machine gun stopped, the last shadow fell dying to the ground. The silence around them broke with a horrible screaming sound, the air itself collapsing like a broken mirror, John rushed to him, close enough to touch.

The Daedalus crew stood around them, a throng of people Todd barely knew but had never been more glad to see. He was even relieved to see McKay, who'd come up from underneath a console, looking surprised, then relieved, then intentionally indifferent as he pretended he hadn't been worried for a second.  
“That was stupid, even for you,” Caldwell said, standing watch over his transporter to make sure McKay put it back together the way it had been.  
John shrugged, grinning helplessly.  
“Figured bringing the house down would give us a clear lock. I was right.”  
That he just as easily could not have been and risked his life to help Todd fight off the shadows, didn't seem to occur to him. It occurred to Todd, though, and he, finally hearing the susurrus of his hive and the constant chatter of his human companions again, didn't hold back.  
John felt warm in his arms, his previously phase shifted arm regaining its colour and warmth as he held him close, burying his nose in his neck. He breathed him in, listened for his heartbeat, a chopped up sigh forcing itself out of his throat as John cautiosly reciprocated the hug.  
If John had counted on a brief hug out of gratitude, he'd counted wrong. Todd kept holding onto him, perfectly content to stay this way for the next few hundred years or at least until Caldwell chased them off his ship. John seemed to realise this, too, because he said: “Do you, uh, want to stay over tonight?”  
He nodded into the crook of John's neck.

Todd hovered near his bed looking just as unsure about this as John felt. He'd been sincere when he offered Todd to stay over, knew that he needed to not be alone for a while. But they hadn't done this before, and they'd certainly never talked about what 'this' was. He and Todd had crossed the line from friendship into unknown territory a while ago, this shouldn't be this big of a step.  
Bracing himself, John slipped under the covers, patting the space next to him.  
“Get in here.”  
Todd followed the command. He crawled into bed next to him and, ignoring the lines of polite distance, curled himself around John, holding onto him nearly as tightly as he had on the Daedalus. John, failing to remember the last time he'd been this close to someone, and turned in his embrace until they were face to face. Todd's breath, just a little cooler than a human's would be, ghosted against his cheek. His pupils were blown wide, almost black circled by a ring of deep yellow. John followed the rapid little movements of his eyes, as Todd searched for something in his face. Or perhaps just tried to commit it all to memory.  
Todd didn't speak, but neither did he purr like he would if he was comfortable. John had an inkling about what Todd had gone through, based on the brief moments he'd spent in that phaseshifted reality. It had looked too much like Atlantis when he'd been displaced thousands of years into the future. And Todd had had no hologram of McKay to keep him company, and even less of a loner streak than John had.  
Teyla had advised him to talk to Todd about it, throwing him a sharp look when John had claimed they didn't do this sort of thing. But it was true. Todd knew John couldn't talk about feelings, his own or others, and Todd himself preferred nonverbal communication anyway.  
Deciding on a method that suited them both John bridged the distance between them and kissed Todd chastely on the lips. He'd kissed Todd before, but never as brief, as innocently as this. This was not a kiss meant to convey his passion or anger, but one to remind Todd that they were here together and would stay that way.  
Todd breathed out, part surprised, part hopeful, and John did it again. He pretended not to notice Todd shivering, only pulled him in closer, placed small kisses on his forehead, his hair, and tucked Todd's head underneath his chin.  
He was tired, the whole ordeal had gone on well into the morning, and he had a shift in less than six hours. Still he brushed his hand through Todd's hair, looked out at the night slowly turning to dawn.  
Only when Todd, tired enough to let go of the lingering fear and adrenaline, finally relaxed, did he let himself drift off. He fell asleep to his deep breaths and the assurance of his body, heavy and solid against his, not going anywhere.

**Author's Note:**

> While I'm writing these fics, I'm (re)watching old episodes of SG-1. Which saw fit to call me out, personally, with this: youtube.com/watch?v=hstdINH9Lk0  
> Credit for both title and my reaction to any and all plotholes go to this scene.
> 
> Also, I realise I wrote something very much like it in the very first entry of this series. However, since I love to write Todd as a little bit broken inside, I decided to do it again, this time with less claustrophobia and more autophobia. If you have any suggestions for what mental/physical scars Todd has collected over his long lifetime, lay 'em on me. I'm more than happy to torture this guy.


End file.
